


Mate in Two

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Coming In Pants, Humiliation, Lorenz is having a bad time but he ends up nutting anyway, M/M, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Kissing, None of this is consensual, Public Sex, sexy bullying, story of his life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:21:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29589924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: There was a lot Lorenz was ready to endure if it meant he could win a game of chess against Claude at last. However, putting up with Sylvain's public assault on his dignity would not have been worth it even if he did manage to emerge victorious.(In which multiple games are being played, and Lorenz loses them all.)
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19
Collections: Anonymous, Horny Void





	Mate in Two

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone involved here is gratuitously mean and none of this is consensual. Please be aware.

Lorenz let his hand linger on the bishop, hesitating. As soon as he released the piece, Claude met his eyes across the chessboard and grinned ominously.

“Yeah, that was a bad move,” Sylvain commented from his seat to Lorenz’s left. “Not that you’ve got any winning moves left, but there were less bad ones available, for sure.”

The way Lorenz was resting his face in his hand prevented him from seeing Sylvain’s mocking expression, and that was just as well. He inclined his head lower, holding his forehead in both hands and further messing up his bangs, in what he hoped would pass for intense concentration. Even if his present company was unlikely to be fooled, it would keep any student strolling through the garden from seeing the color of his face, at least.

“Is something wrong?” Claude asked, although he didn’t sound the least bit concerned.

“Not at all,” Lorenz lied through gritted teeth.

Claude kept staring intently at him as he extended a hand towards his knight. Lorenz felt himself begin to sweat for reasons that had little to do with the bright afternoon sun, but he would not give his tormentors the satisfaction of watching him squirm. Gathering his thoughts as best he could, he searched the board and his mind for a decent follow up, although he knew as well as Sylvain did that it was useless. He couldn’t even remember what the score was going to be after his impending defeat, which said as much about his staggering number of consecutive losses as it did about the flustered state he was in. He had let his situation devolve until he could no longer retreat, and for what? Only for Claude to defeat him once more, and to find himself doubly humiliated.

He should have known that nothing good would come out of it when Sylvain joined them to spectate, but the prospect of winning against Claude at last had kept him in his seat. There was something about the way Claude played, something about the way he moved his pieces with less than his characteristic level of confidence, that had Lorenz convinced victory was near.

He had been so focused on securing his victory that he didn’t immediately notice when Sylvain’s hand found his knee. A pointed look was all it took to get him to remove it, and so Lorenz elected to ignore him. When the hand came back, spread flat over the top of his thigh, Lorenz batted it away, and made a mental note to tell Sylvain exactly what he thought of his distasteful idea of a joke once he was done with the business at hand.

It was several more minutes before Sylvain touched him again. Perhaps that was the exact moment when Sylvain’s unrefined mind grew bored of watching Claude and Lorenz’s battle of intellects. If he had been waiting for Lorenz’s focus to be at it’s peak in order to catch him off guard, however, he couldn’t have chosen a better moment. Lorenz was in the middle of considering his next move, fully absorbed in the problem of anticipating Claude’s often convoluted strategies, when Sylvain grabbed him hard enough for his fingers to dig into the meat of Lorenz’s thigh.

Lorenz yelped, and jumped to his feet so fast that his chair nearly fell over. Securing it with one hand, he gave Sylvain as scorching a glare as he was capable of.

Claude looked between them, eyebrow raised. “Is there a problem?”

“Haha, my bad.” Sylvain raised his hands in surrender. “We keep kicking each other’s feet. You know, long legs, small table.”

“Pfft. Showoff,” Claude laughed, as if that wasn’t a blatant lie.

Lorenz was about to call Sylvain out on it, but Claude looked at him and said, “Careful though, you almost knocked the board over.”

Startled, Lorenz followed Claude’s gaze down to the table. He didn’t remember bumping it, but, indeed, the board now sat on it askew. He was relieved to see that none of the pieces had slid out of place. No cause to abandon their game just yet.

“If Sylvain’s distracting you too much, we can just call it quits.” Claude raised his arms in a stretch, then joined his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. “We’ll consider this one even, how about that? Not a bad deal for you, considering the current score.”

His eagerness to give up on the game aroused Lorenz’s suspicion. Oh, Claude must have believed himself clever, but Lorenz could see right through him. He examined the chessboard again carefully, certain now that he wasn’t the one who caused it to move, only relaxing once he was certain that none of the pieces’ positions were changed. Claude’s opportunistic first attempt at sabotage had failed, and Lorenz wasn’t about to let this one succeed, either.

“There’s no need for that.” Lorenz sat back down, and graced Claude with a smile. “Let us finish what we started. I don’t believe it will take much longer.”

“Alright then,” Claude said, but his face fell into a pout. That alone could have sufficed to convince Lorenz that victory was closer than ever.

Sylvain, who had been watching the exchange with interest, appeared satisfied with the conclusion it came to, not that Lorenz particularly cared. He gave Lorenz an innocent look that couldn’t possibly have ever fooled anyone. “Guess I’ll try to be more careful.”

“Please do.”

Of course, even before the last syllable had left his mouth, Sylvain’s hand was back on him. Lorenz clicked his tongue in dismay.

“So… I’m sorry, who’s turn was it again?” Claude asked, rubbing the back of his head bashfully.

That settled it. If this was how little of his attention Claude was devoting to the game, then Lorenz couldn’t lose.

“Mine,” he answered confidently, and captured one of Claude’s pawns with his knight.

He wouldn’t let himself get distracted from his goal any further. In fact, Lorenz’s triumph would only be made all the more glorious by Lorenz achieving it while Sylvain was making a nuisance of himself. It didn’t matter how intrusive Sylvain’s touch became. Lorenz would let him rub circles atop his leg all he wanted, if it amused him to do so.

That, Lorenz realized now, had been a mistake. He had overestimated Sylvain’s decency and failed to realize his true purpose. Lorenz’s imagination, apparently not as twisted as Sylvain’s morals, had failed to warn him against the vulgar things Sylvain would be willing to do to him in broad daylight. Unfortunately, by the time Sylvain’s hand had crept all the way up his thigh, it had been too late.

In truth, Lorenz’s fate was sealed from the moment Sylvain paused halfway there to grope at his inner thigh. Lorenz’s treacherous body seemed to interpret that as a prelude to something else, and reacted accordingly. Lorenz’s grip tightened on the pawn he had just captured when Sylvain resumed sliding his fingers along the inside of his leg and was met with hardness. Even though he refused to let himself react to Sylvain’s curious probing or to his self-satisfied snicker, he couldn’t stop his face from growing warm.

Claude echoed Sylvain’s reaction with his own detestable little chuckle. “What’s so funny?”

Lorenz tensed, fearing that Sylvain would answer with the truth this time and already grasping for the words to explain that Sylvain was the one responsible for the state he was currently in, but Sylvain gestured at the board. “Not much of a challenge, is he?”

He punctuated his reply with a squeeze that was as uncomfortable for Lorenz’s constricted manhood as his words had been for his ego.

“Told you,” Claude replied simply.

His next move after that hadn’t been one Lorenz had seen coming, and the smile that had curled his lips had been the smile of someone who was acutely aware that he had just crushed his opponent’s misplaced hopes as easily as one would crush a pesky insect under his heel.

There wasn’t a hint of uncertainty left on Claude’s face anymore as he captured Lorenz’s bishop with his rook. And it had become torturously clear that Sylvain didn’t intend to stop pawing at Lorenz’s crotch. Even so, Lorenz couldn’t in good faith blame his defeat on some deception of Claude’s or on Sylvain’s indecency, and it shamed him that he wanted to.

More shameful still were the shivers and sighs Sylvain managed to draw from him. Throughout Claude’s devastating comeback, Sylvain had gotten bolder. No longer content to feel for the outline of Lorenz’s erection through the fabric of his trousers, he had switched to rubbing his palm over the entire length in a movement clearly intended to bring pleasure. And pleasure it did bring, to Lorenz's chagrin. Although he knew the sensations it provoked said less about him than they said about Sylvain’s promiscuous habits and the skills he had developed as a result, Lorenz was also all too aware of what he looked like. As much as he wanted to believe that his pristine reputation would leave his fellow students disinclined to assume he was a willing participant in this public act of perversion, he hadn’t shown any sign of resistance since Sylvain first grabbed at him several moments ago, and he knew he himself would be hesitant to give anyone the benefit of the doubt should he find them flushed bright red and visibly hard with classmate’s hand in their lap in the middle of the garden.

At least Sylvain’s antics hadn’t attracted any unwanted attention yet. Lorenz might as well take a brief moment to count his blessings, since they were so few. It was fortunate that Claude’s choice of table, in a corner next to a hedge, left both Lorenz and Sylvain mostly hidden from view. And, miraculously, if Claude had any idea of what Sylvain was doing to Lorenz under the table, he didn’t let it show. A small comfort.

But there were still people around. After taking Claude’s rook with his queen, which he promptly lost as well, Lorenz chanced a furtive glance around the garden, heart racing from more than just the insistent pressure of Sylvain’s palm. There were _too many people_ around, other students having tea or chatting or simply enjoying the weather. Too many people, and too much distance between him and the privacy of his room, for Lorenz to simply get up and walk away in the state he was in. He was well and truly trapped here until Sylvain showed him mercy.

Whether Sylvain derived some sick kind of satisfaction from having Lorenz flushed and aroused as well as from Lorenz’s public humiliation, or he was only after the latter, his objective had been achieved. Surely he could stop now. At the thought that passersby might mistake them for three friends enjoying an invigorating game of chess, Lorenz shuddered in disgust.

He chose a pawn to advance at random. It truly didn’t matter anymore, and all of his focus was devoted to keeping his expression neutral and his breath steady. With a triumphant glint in his eyes, Claude moved his own pawn forward.

“Huh, not what I would have done.” Sylvain’s tone was infuriatingly casual, given the circumstances. “You could have won quicker if you’d moved your rook there instead,” he continued, pointing with his free hand.

Claude’s eyes flashed briefly with annoyance, although his smile never faltered. “I could have won quicker if my opponent wasn’t too distracted to play.” He leaned over the table to peek at Lorenz’s face, still partly hidden from his view by Lorenz’s hands. “I do wonder what’s going on with him today.”

“It’s nothing,” Lorenz insisted, determined not to flinch under Claude’s inquisitive gaze.

“If you say so.” With a shrug, he turned back to Sylvain. “You want to take my place once this game’s done? You sound like you’d rather be playing.”

“Oh, I’m having fun, don’t worry.” He squeezed Lorenz’s crotch for emphasis. Lorenz swallowed a scathing remark. “But it’s true that watching you guys has given me the itch. I don’t know if playing against _Lorenz_ would really do anything to scratch it, though.”

Lorenz straightened in his seat. “ _Excuse me,_ ” he started, amazed that Sylvain would have the audacity to add yet more insult to depravity.

“Yeah, Sylvain, don’t be unfair.” 

Not having expected Claude to come to his defense, Lorenz froze.

“I do think he’s gotten a lot better at reading the game lately. I bet he even figured out he lost several moves ago. That’s definitely an improvement.”

Claude paused, looking at Lorenz with his head tilted appraisingly, as if to let him properly appreciate the backhanded nature of the compliment.

“Though, it that’s the case, then I’m disappointed in you. It’s terrible sportsmanship, you know? Stretching out the game like that. I didn’t expect you to be such a sore loser.”

“I am _not_ –”

Lorenz fell silent when an idea struck him. Claude had handed him the key that would free him from Sylvain and his wandering hands, albeit inadvertently. If Lorenz wasn’t loath to direct any positive feelings towards Claude as a matter of principle, he would have felt grateful. He cleared his throat. “Ah, pardon me. You are, in fact, quite right. And I would like to correct myself now, if you’ll allow me.”

Raising his chin, he shot Sylvain one more heated glare, before reaching over to the chessboard for his king and knocking it over.

Sylvain burst out laughing. The upside to that was that he finally took his hand back so he could use it to wipe his eye, although his hilarity left Lorenz confused. “Wow, you really _are_ good at that. It’s like one of those card tricks where you fish out the ace of heart from the deck every time. Maybe I need to learn your ways.”

Lorenz frowned, unable to make what Sylvain said make sense. Claude seemed amused by Lorenz’s confusion. Although he was replying to Sylvain, it was Lorenz he was looking at. “Eh, most cards tricks require skill. I keep telling you he’s easy.”

It took a moment for Lorenz to process that reply and cross-reference it with Claude’s smug expression to get it’s full meaning, during which Claude got up to cede his chair to Sylvain. And it took him yet more time after that to find something to say other than, “ _You..._ ”

Claude mouthed, “Me?” with a hand pressed to his heart in pretend disbelief. Behind him, Sylvain, now seated in the chair across from Lorenz, snickered some more as he finished resetting the chessboard.

“You _manipulated_ me! I should have know all of this was planned! The two of you must have been colluding from the start to humiliate me!”

Holding a finger to his lips, Claude made a show of looking around with exaggerated alarm. Suddenly aware of how his voice had gradually risen in volume, Lorenz fell quiet. A group of Black Eagle students giggled as they walked by, and Lorenz’s heart jumped into his throat.

With unnerving calm, Claude dragged the third chair closer to Lorenz’s side. He was laughing as he sat down, as if Lorenz’s outburst was part of a joke they shared. Lorenz had to shift away to keep their shoulders from bumping.

“Now, Lorenz, that’s a grave accusation to be making without evidence. I even offered you a chance to leave earlier, remember?” Before Lorenz could tell him what he thought of that, Claude lowered his voice to add, “I don’t think you want to be making a scene right now.”

As if Lorenz needed the reminder as to why, Claude glanced down at Lorenz’s lap and placed his hand where Sylvain’s had been. His fingers curled around Lorenz’s hardness. “Heh. Nice.”

From the other side of the chessboard, Sylvain winked. “It’s a talent.”

In a burst of desperation, Lorenz dug his nails into his palm and tried to will his indignation to act on his body like a cold shower. It didn’t work. He remained hopelessly rigid under Claude’s touch.

“Seriously, what did you think was happening? Did you really think I could sit right there and not notice? You should see your _face._ ”

Lorenz made to turn away from Claude and towards the open space of the garden, but halfway through the movement it occurred to him that allowing the garden’s other occupants to take a better look at his face might be a bad idea. And in front of him was Sylvain. He looked down at the chessboard. “You are a liar and a cheat.”

“Again with the baseless accusations. You know I didn’t cheat. The most humiliating thing about this situation might be your chess playing skills, actually.”

As he spoke, he explored the contour of Lorenz’s erection. His intent gaze as he studied Lorenz’s face, as opposed to Sylvain’s apparent disinterest, made it feel like very different experience from before. His closeness, too, and the way their legs touched, and the heat radiating off his body.

“You should consider this your penalty for losing.”

Claude’s fingers paused their exploration to play with his head. Lorenz’s breath hitched.

“As I understand it, it is the winner who is usually given a handicap,” he protested weakly.

“Ha! It’s true that the only way you could win against Sylvain is if I started sucking him off under the table.”

“Next time,” Sylvain said, and Lorenz wondered if that was a joke or a promise. With that thought came the image of Claude’s lips parting around heated flesh, of green eyes glancing at him mockingly before fluttering shut. Lorenz pushed the thought away as quickly as if it had burned him.

“But that’s why I’m going to watch you closely–”

Lorenz flinched when Claude touched his cheek. That didn’t stop Claude from tucking his hair behind his ear.

“– and give you tips.”

“Don’t,” was all Lorenz managed to say. Claude ignored him.

“Here’s my first piece of advice.” He cupped a hand around his mouth and Lorenz’s ear in a parody of privacy. With his mouth so close that Lorenz could feel his lips brush against his skin as he formed the words, he whispered, “Pay attention. It’s your turn.”

On reflex, Lorenz’s attention snapped back to the board. Sylvain had already made his opening move, and the white king’s pawn taunted him from an aggressive two steps ahead of it’s starting point.

“I refuse to go along with this farce any longer,” Lorenz said, with less poise than he intended to.

“Giving up before you even started? That’s too bad.” But Claude was already answering Sylvain’s move in kind, anticipating Lorenz’s response yet again. “In that case…”

Claude’s mouth was at Lorenz’s ear again, and between Lorenz’s thighs, his caress grew more firm. Lorenz felt goosebumps form on his skin that had nothing to do with the breeze. “My next advice is: relax. It’ll be over quicker.”

Behind the cover of his hand, he took Lorenz’s earlobe into his mouth, and sucked. Lorenz couldn’t hold back a whine. He jerked away from Claude’s mouth and looked around in panic, searching for a sign that he had been heard.

“Hey, don’t do that. It just makes you look guilty.” Claude stopped his movement, letting his hand rest on Lorenz’s thigh. Lorenz listened to him, and stilled. Claude would know what guilty looked like.

Sylvain, of course, felt the need to chip in. “I don’t know, I’d say he’s enjoying this too much to be innocent.”

“Sure, but no one needs to know.”

The way Claude caressed his thigh could have been comforting coming from someone else, but Lorenz wasn’t desperate enough to mistake Claude’s self-serving intentions for true benevolence, especially when paired with Sylvain’s cruel smirk.

“If you let go of me now, then I agree, no one needs to know,” he offered, trying to appeal to Claude’s reasonable side, if it existed at all.

“Hmm.” Claude mimed being deep in thought. “If you didn’t spend most of your spare time being a pain in my ass, then yeah, I might have believed you.” He moved a knight in response to Sylvain’s previous move. “Besides, you’re the one who told me I should finish what I started.”

“You can’t,” Lorenz said, although he wasn’t sure he believed it, not after the spark of pleasure Claude’s next touch sent up his spine.

“That’s all up to you.”

After capturing one of Claude’s pawns, Sylvain got to his feet. “We better help him keep quiet. I doubt this is the one instance where he’ll shut up on his own.”

Claude chuckled, hand still working between Lorenz’s thighs. “You’re probably right.”

Lorenz was temporarily glad for how Sylvain’s body further shielded him from view, until Sylvain leaned down and used one hand to push his chin up, and he realized what Sylvain meant to do.

“Don’t,” he said again, but Sylvain pressed his lips to his regardless.

While Sylvain kissing one of his conquests wasn’t a rare sight to stumble onto around the monastery, Lorenz wondered, with the strange sort of detachment that was beyond panic, if the damage to his own reputation could ever be undone. Would it appear, to an onlooker, like he wanted this? Did the way his brow creased as Sylvain buried his fingers in his hair look like passion, rather than agony?

Perhaps he shouldn’t aggrandize this violation by calling it a kiss. This was nothing so romantic nor so sweet. Not with how Lorenz had to clench his teeth to guard his mouth against the intrusion of Sylvain’s tongue. Not with how was Claude was pressed against his side and how his hand was still stroking him mercilessly.

Lorenz was sure that the way he grasped Sylvain’s uniform, hands clenched so tightly into fists that his arms shook, would be misconstrued, and yet he couldn’t help it. He needed it, to brace against the wave of pleasure that threatened to sweep him away. Anything that wasn’t the tantalizing movement of Claude’s hand. He scrabbled for anything to focus on, the rub of the fabric against his fingers, the distant chatter of a group of peers, the stone under his feet, the painful tension in his muscles, in his core, in his jaw.

“Relax,” Claude whispered. And it was Claude’s breath teasing his skin, not his voice and not his word, that caused Lorenz to gasp and uncoil. The distinction might not truly matter, but still, with his last second of clarity before his release pulsed under Claude’s palm, Lorenz clung to this last shred of his dignity, and hoped that Claude didn’t misunderstand.

And then Sylvain's tongue slipped past his teeth, and Lorenz didn't have it in him to feel anything other than grateful for how it muffled the sounds he couldn't stop himself from making. His feet pushed at the ground, but two pairs of hands held him in place. And then it was over.

Any relief Lorenz might have felt was short lived and quickly replaced by the pathetic feeling of his spend cooling on his skin. Sylvain disentangled Lorenz’s fists from his jacket and brushed it back into his preferred state of disorder. Claude rolled and stretched his wrist, and angled the chessboard so that it faced him. As Lorenz sat there, mind blank, still catching his breath, both went back to their game as if nothing of interest happened. After watching them play a couple of moves, Lorenz glanced down to check that he was decent enough to leave. At the last minute, he thought to wipe Sylvain’s spit off his mouth before he got up from his chair. His first stumbling step backwards caused semen to smear all over his inner thigh, and Lorenz’s face burned with renewed shame and fury.

“One last bit of advice,” Claude called to him, just as he started to walk away. “Well, this is more of a proposal. How about you stay off my dick, and I stay off yours?”

Lorenz had to swallow to wet his throat before he could answer. Claude waited patiently for him to do so.

“You’ll pay for this,” he finally spat.

Claude sighed, and looked at him with something between disappointment and pity. “Guess I should take that as a ‘no’. Oh well, same time next week, then?” he asked with all the levity of someone scheduling a pleasant tea date with a couple of friends.

“I rather think not.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll come find you.” Sylvain smiled that nonchalant smile of his. While twirling a black pawn in one hand, he used the other to blow Lorenz a kiss.

Lorenz fled.


End file.
